


Be Afraid of the Old (They'll Inherit Your Soul)

by ptgreat



Series: Tumblr Prompts [18]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptgreat/pseuds/ptgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strike>For hawkstout's prompt: Padme/Obi-Wan/Anakin Vaaaampire fic >:]</strike> HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [familyfunctions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/familyfunctions/gifts).



Anakin watched the surveillance feed, arms resting along the back of the synth-leather loveseat and long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed.

“You’re very keen on that witch, aren’t you?”

He jumped despite his wife’s gentle tone. Her soothing presence so quiet and familiar, he’d taken little notice of her approach. Padme leaned over his shoulder, smoothing her warm hands under his tunic.

“I can certainly see the appeal,” She scraped his abs with her perfect manicure and kissed his jaw. “He’s very pretty. Very delicate in his mortality.”

He tongued a fang, “I’d like to change that last part.”

“Mm. Of course you would. But does he?”

“Why should that matter?”

Obi-Wan resisted a shudder and instead took a sip of his drink while he gave the club a cursory glance for the gaze he felt on him. His would-be client was late, probably a no show, which wasn’t really a surprise. It was an annoyance and inconvenience. The cover charge had been rather outlandish and the drinks even more so but Mr. Fett had been insistent that they meet here. Even so, the man, like many others before him, must have gotten cold feet about dealing with the oftentimes shady and morally grey world of the supernatural. Obi-Wan sighed. He’d give this Jango five more minutes. Then he’d let himself go home to relax in his soft, worn sleep tunic with a datapad and a cup of tea.

“Hello,” a sweet voice chimed.

Obi-Wan turned his head, a young woman—no, a fey lady—beside him.

“My lady,” he inclined his head.

She smiled, very pleasant, and very beautiful, bright dark eyes and long brown hair braided and pinned up into wide loops. She was part of the high nobility, but Obi-Wan couldn’t say who she was or even which court with any certainty. He assumed summer, her aura similar to Satine’s. However, he stayed as uninvolved as he could when it came to fey affairs. They so often got messy, particularly for the mortals caught up in them.

“You’re waiting for someone?”

“That was the idea but I believe I’ve been stood up.”

“Perhaps I’ll do instead?”

“Ah, I’m very flattered, my lady. But I’m sure you have far better things to do with your time than waste it on me.”

What could a high fey possibly want with him? He was hardly the most attractive person in the club, nor the most exuberant. He wasn’t even a particularly powerful witch. He half-wanted to accept her offer just to find out but that would be a terrible, terrible idea. Better to extricate himself as politely as possible and leave. He finished his drink, ice clinking, and turned, setting the sweating glass on the polished bar. Now if a bartender would just come back so he could settle his tab, but one was occupied with several giggling, indecisive Twi’leks, another flirting badly with a bored Pantoran, and the third gone, presumably on break.

The fey touched his arm, “Maybe it’s you who doesn’t have time for me.”

Blast it.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

He blinked rapidly and gripped the bar with both hands. That drink had gone to his head rather quickly. No, he thought fuzzily, frowning. It couldn’t have. An arm hooked around his waist, tugging him back against a firm, cool chest. The presence was at least as old as it was young, masculine, and, his brow furrowed, familiar. Something he’d known in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember.

“Very few would,” the chest rumbled smoothly.

“Well,” he slurred, “it would be very rude.”

He tried to crane his neck to see his face but the world faded in and out with the movement.

“Yes,” the man chuckled. “Now go to sleep, Obi-Wan.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sorta prequel for the previous chapter, written for jediempire's prompt: AniObi. Daypire Anakin meets Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy was small and quietly luminous, a sunlit meadow on the edge of ancient pine forest, and standing beside that deeply irritating green troll. Yoda glanced at him, knowing in those putrid little eyes, but continued to parry words with Anakin’s sire. The youngling plucked at Yoda’s drab robe, uninterested in the conversation but knowing better than to openly whine.

“Bored, little one?”

Those sweet blue-green eyes rose to meet his at once, wide and surprised to be addressed. Palpatine and Yoda both paused to look at Anakin, neither pleased.

“Oh, um—”

Anakin smiled and held a hand out, “I could take you for a walk in the bazaar, while the old men talk their business.”

His smile widened. The boy was tempted. Such a trusting, adventurous thing. Anakin wanted to bundle him up in his arms and keep him safe until he was old enough for sampling. That would only take a decade or so. Most mortals were sweet like that.

“Unnecessary that is,” Yoda snapped. “Done with our business we are.”

Palpatine narrowed his eyes but inclined his head, “As you say.”

Anakin watched Yoda walk away, a guiding hand on the boy’s back.

“Your name, little one,” he called after them.

The youngling turned still surprised at his attention. Yoda scowled.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, sir,” he bowed before the tiny old witch hustled him away.

Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin smiled. He’d be watching his career with great interest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For sakishin1's prompt: I really <3 your vampire obikin/aniobidala Fics, if you could do some more of those that be awesome, you don't have to though!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set not long after the second chapter and years before the first.

Dawn lightened the sky, a gossamer veil of gold and rose cast over the coastline, just on the edge of a one of the great fey forests of Naboo, and the small villa built there. Qui-Gon waited, his boat rocking gently, oar pressed into soft wet sand, while the sun continued to climb. Immune to sunlight Vader might be, if the rumors were true, but he kept the traditional hours of his night-stalking sire and kin. Finally satisfied, Qui-Gon pulled himself further ashore with the oar, then stepped onto the beach and dragged the boat another few feet, boots sinking into the sand. Approaching the villa, he strummed the delicate bond he’d never intended to make but had happened all the same. An inquisitive response plucked at his senses.

“This way, little one,” he murmured, stopping on the carved steps.

A few short moments later, the door open and a bright face peeked out. The boy was a shade or two paler than Qui-Gon remembered. He’d probably adapted to Vader’s schedule.

“Master Jinn,” the youngling smiled and came further onto the veranda and into the morning light.

His feet were bare and his sleep tunic fine silk, Nubian made no doubt, if a little large. He looked all the more petite for it and Qui-Gon almost smiled. Until he saw the marks.  The freshest red and a bit inflamed in the joint of his elbow, but there were others against his throat and his wrist, all in various stages of healing.

“You’ve missed quite a few lessons, Obi-Wan.”

“Oh,” he blinked. “I forgot.”

“That’s alright,” Qui-Gon took several steps towards him, hand out. “You can make them up. However we must leave right away.”

Obi-Wan looked back over his shoulder at the door, “But Ani…”

Qui-Gon glanced to the door then back to Obi-Wan.

“Is Lord Vader here, Obi-Wan?”

He looked to Qui-Gon again.

“He’ll be back soon,” Obi-Wan smiled. “I’m going to meet his wife.”

What depraved or misguided woman would be married to a monster such as Vader? Still, his absence was good news.

“It’s time to go home, young one.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, “I am home.”

“This is not home.”

Qui-Gon resisted a sigh as Obi-Wan’s face scrunched up with displeasure. They did not have this time to waste. As soon as Vader discovered him gone, he would be in pursuit. Qui-Gon needed to have them both safely ensconced within the temple amongst the coven before the vampire gained any traction.

“Obi-Wan,” he gestured with his outstretched hand.

Obi-Wan shook his head and took a half-stepped back. Letting out an exasperated breath, Qui-Gon closed the distance between them and scooped him up. Obi-Wan yelped and struggled, small limbs flailing. Qui-Gon tucked him under his arm where he could do the least amount of damage and immediately headed back to his boat.

“Put me down! Put me down!”

He twisted and squirmed in Qui-Gon’s grip, like an unhappy kitten.

“Cody!” he cried. “Rex!”

Qui-Gon did not pause to see if anyone or anything responded to the wail, getting them both into the boat and pushing it off the shore, murmuring a concealment charm to hide them from most beings’ awareness. Rowing hard, he glanced back over his shoulder. Sand flying behind them, two massive wolves, one dark brown and the other near white, rushed into the waves, yipping and heads swinging around frantically but never settling on the boat. Qui-Gon faced forward again, heart aching while Obi-Wan, seated between Qui-Gon’s legs on the bottom of the boat, sobbed quietly into his drawn-up knees.

“This memory will fade, Obi-Wan,” he murmured gently. “You’re safe now.”

Obi-Wan whimpered but leaned into his leg.

“I will keep you safe.”

Behind them, two howls broke the soft morning quiet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Please can we have a little more with the coven's reaction to little Obi-wan coming home with vampire bites?

Standing before the Council, Qui-Gon resisted rubbing his temples. This was his third summons in as many weeks.

“The boy must be confined to the healers’ ward,” Saesee Tiin said.

And Obi-Wan’s second escape attempt. His first try being the cause of the second summons, and Qui-Gon’s not entirely sanctioned rescue of Obi-Wan—a unanimous had never been made in regards to the coven’s response to Vader’s bold abduction—the first.

“He tries to flee because he is accustomed to Vader’s bite,” Qui-Gon said.

“Addicted you mean,” Mace corrected.

“I,” Qui-Gon sighed. “Yes. You’ve seen the marks for yourselves. How could he not be?”

“Which is why he should be under the surveillance of the healers.”

Plo Koon nodded in agreement with Mace, “The youngling is unhappy and unwell.”

Qui-Gon could not disagree. Obi-Wan was all of these things and he would benefit from an extended stay amongst the healers. However, he still hesitated. Malcontent as Obi-Wan from withdrawal, his sobbing was near unbearable whenever Qui-Gon left him with the healers.

“I question the wisdom of training him at all,” Saesee Tiin said. “Even if he is freed of the addiction, he will always be susceptible.”

Yoda harrumphed loudly, “Taught resistance can be. Continue his training will.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For hamelin-born's prompt: Supernatural Anakin/Padme/Obi-Wan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation from Chapter 1

Obi-Wan stared at the tablecloth, his fingertip dragging over whorls of lace in counterclockwise circles.

“More tea, darling?”

He looked up and blinked, the room coming into shimmering focus. The gossamer curtains, framing the large open windows, fluttered with the fragrant breeze. Shuura blossom season.

“I’m sorry?”

Lady Amidala smiled beside him, beautiful and luminous in the late morning light, her ivory and filigree teapot poised over a matching teacup and saucer in front of him.

“More tea?” she asked again.

“Oh. Yes. Thank you.”

She tipped the teapot, the tea arcing gracefully and aromatic steam wafting upwards. He took a careful sip—mm his favorite blend—as she refilled her own cup and then set the teapot down. While they sat in amiable silence, Obi-Wan’s gaze drifted back down to the lace tablecloth. Lady Amidala cupped his chin, her hand warm and soft, and tilted his gaze back up to meet her own.

“You’re distracted.”

Was he? Yes, he supposed he was. Perhaps he needed to meditate. Regain his focus.

“Is it because you’ve accepted my husband’s job offer?”

Obi-Wan looked at her blankly.

“Job offer?”

Lady Amidala laughed, dropping her hand as her eyes flicking up and over to something just behind Obi-Wan. A cold, gloved hand rested on his shoulder. Obi-Wan turned in his chair, tilting his head back. A young man, Lady Amidala’s husband, smiled down at him, blue eyes alight.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” he chuckled.

“It…it seems I have.”

Who—he knew this man, he did. Obi-Wan was certain of it. Why couldn’t he think of his name? He was generally quite good with names. And places. He glanced towards the wide windows, caught by the yellow sunlight.

“But you’ll still do it?” Lady Amidala asked.

Of course. It was on the tip of his tongue. Like the lingering flavor of his tea. He stared at the windows, breathing in the sweet summer air. Vader—Obi-Wan closed his eyes and opened them, that was his name, the name Lady Amidala had given him—caught his chin in his hand, a mimicry of his wife only a moment before.

“Just accept it, Obi-Wan.”

Accept it. Accept what? His peripheral demanded he look back to the windows, the gossamer curtains, the yellow sunlight, but Vader held his gaze firmly, kept him looking up and only at him. He rubbed the tablecloth between his fingers. Vader brushed a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Obi-Wan. Say yes.”

A single moment of clarity pricked his thoughts.

“It’s too early for shuura blossoms on Naboo.”

A web of silk-fine cracks spread from that pinprick and the glamour shivered like wind blowing too hard on a mirror.

“And Coruscant doesn’t have them at all.”

Vader clenched his jaw and withdrew his hand. Lady Amidala tutted as her glamour collapsed entirely. Gossamer and warm sunlight were gone, replaced by heavier drapes and red skies. Obi-Wan turned towards her.

“I suppose I was too self-indulgent,” Lady Amidala said, pleasant despite the unveiling. “You’ll listen to my husband’s job proposal anyways, I hope?”

Obi-Wan thumbed the tablecloth still in his hand, the table setting one of the only things that had not been falsified, then pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

Lady Amidala pursed her lips. Vader was still next to him, taller than him by a good few inches and too close but Obi-Wan was not going to let a silly thing like intimidation and a pretty pout keep him here. The beautiful couple had lured to that club under false pretenses no doubt and abducted him. If they were willing to go to such lengths just to offer him the job, he was quite certain he wanted nothing to with the actual endeavor.

“Thank you for the tea, my lady,” he bowed shallowly.

He’d only just touched the door panel when Vader spoke again.

“I am going to kill my sire, Sidious.”

Obi-Wan glanced back at him, unmoved, then at Lady Amidala.

“My condolences on your widowing.”


End file.
